Tag Archives: growing up

The first time I ever has sex was my junior year of high school. I was 17 and the first friend in my group of friend to check this next step into “growing up.” Something that sounded rather more exciting than actually doing it and I really don’t much have much memory of my first time, or the many times to follow. Besides the room, my ex and a few feeling here and there.

That unsure feeling in the moment. The push into the idea “pun-intended” the shaking and worry of who I will feel like after all this.

I didn’t feel any different.

My body was still thin and my boobs remained small. My freckles didn’t shift towards my feet like they were trying to run away, migrate to a safer body.

Many young women try so hard, through ritual steps to fill those heels and walk like a lady. Like at 10-years-old we weren’t women yet, like feeling our bodies shift, our periods flow and men staring at our growing bodies wasn’t enough to call ourselves women.

We women always feel like we must the tests to become a woman. The period, the bra of different lace, boyfriend, break-ups, cheating, sex (good at it) sexy but holy white, get married, have kids and raise them well. Then we feel like a woman? So far all I’ve learned is how none of these so-called “rights of passage” do nothing to make feel any more like a woman. If anything I have felt more embarrassed, ashamed and trying more and more to be the right kind of woman for the right kind of guy that’s going to be everything for me.

And he never came along. (Ok I’m young) But 25 is right around the corner and this society I’m apart, the one I’ve dressed up for, wore colors on my face and bleed with for years now expects I would have found “him.”

Being that young woman, almost 25, very single and thinking about my next career moves. Makes me feel like an outsider in my culture. I know the culture is shifting but in many respects it’s not. feminist is still a dirty word and people at open mic’s and classrooms want to rinse my mouth out with soap. People still tell me what to wear and not wear. Other’s stare at my breast, make sexist comments to my face and many disrespect my space and my voice.

I haven’t had sex in six months. A record for me. I’ve been having sex since I was 17 and the longest I’ve gone without sex was four months, so being 24 years old and I haven’t had sex in six months is a record-breaking event.

It’s not looking like this record is going to end anytime soon and it’s due to a mix of things. I don’t like any of the men in the area. I don’t want them to touch after hearing the words that flap off their tongues. And I’m really enjoying touching myself lately.

Sex has always been me dictionary definition of who I am. I’m good at sex. I’m sexy, slutty and I know what a man wants. My blow jobs are good and know how to follow the ride.

This was everything I thought I was. So when Thrilla cheated on me and he was second person to cheat on me if really shattered my image of who I was. Because I thought I could keep someone around if I gave them sex, was good at sex and could bend my back in just the right ways.

Sex does not make me more of a woman.

It took me most of my life so far to figure this out.

And I don’t want any other women to feel like this, though I know many do. So I will do everything in my power to end this. It’s time our generation moves on and educates women correctly about sex.

It’s not a definition for who you are as a person or what you can give.

Six months is a long time for me and if you asked me a year ago if I hadn’t sex in six months I would have hated it. But right now in this moment I don’t feel less of a person. If anything I feel more like myself and more of a woman because I have given myself something I always gave to others. My time.